


We Loved Each Other At Our Darkest

by MakeMeBurn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Little bit of angst, M/M, ocd sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:11:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeMeBurn/pseuds/MakeMeBurn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock are strong people. They run their own lives . . . just alongside each other’s. But sometimes, they find themselves slipping- breaking- falling. These are a few stories of them helping each other back up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Loved Each Other At Our Darkest

1.  
Sherlock and John were at a crime scene interviewing a woman about the time she spent with the man who kidnapped her. She admitted that he tortured and raped her and Sherlock saw John’s eyes get significantly wider. After the interview, Sherlock and John thanked her and walked outside to just outside the skirts of the crime scene, and John lost it.  
“This is so sick! This is so freaking bloody sick! Sick! God, just.” John started yelling and he was pacing back and forth like a caged criminal. He was breathing heavily through gritted teeth.  
“John?” Sherlock asked with concern in his voice.  
John started to walk quickly towards the crime scene and Sherlock ran to catch up to him. “John, what are you doing? Where are you going?” Sherlock asked. John was upset. Very upset. And he had no idea what to do when John was upset.  
“I’m going to go punch someone.” John said with his pace picking up. He was blushing furiously out of anger. It was Sherlock’s turn for his eyes to get wide and John looked forward and saw the police car that was holding the convicted man that was a rapist, murderer, and a kidnapper. Sherlock fully believed that John was going to punch him, but he could not let John do that.  
“No no no no, you can’t do that John.” Sherlock tried to reason with him.  
“Yes I can Sherlock, and yes I will. You cannot do that to a person. You can’t violate a person like that!” John yelled angrily.  
Sherlock swallowed thickly and stood in front of John while John seethed with anger. He put his hands on John’s arms and rubbed up and down, trying to comfort him. “John, John, the man has been arrested he will probably have a death penalty, it will be fine.” Sherlock assured him.  
“NO! NO! IT IS FREAKING NOT OKAY! THIS ISN’T OKAY! SHERLOCK LET ME THROUGH SO I CAN PUNCH THE STUPID GIT!” John screamed, and it was obvious that he was even madder, but Sherlock had to try and calm him down. John pushed past him and started to almost run to the police car but Sherlock trapped him by grabbing his hand. “NO! NO!” Sherlock led John away gently so they could go to a bench on the outskirts of the crime scene.  
“SHERLOCK LET ME GO! LET GO!” He was full blown angry and was not having any of this. Sherlock awkwardly put his arms around John and hugged him. He whispered in John’s ear, “It’s okay John, the woman is going to be okay I swear. It’s going to be alright.”  
John was breathing heavily into Sherlock’s chest but soon enough, he wrapped his arms around Sherlock and clutched the fabric of the coat on his back. Sherlock rubbed circles into John’s back and John allowed himself to lean against Sherlock. They sat down on a bench and John laid his head on Sherlock’s shoulder, and Sherlock felt a single tear fall to his shoulder. “Are you okay, John?” Sherlock asked tenderly.  
John nodded. “Yes, thank you Sherlock. I’m okay now.” Sherlock reached to hold John’s hand. “You ready to go home?” He asked.  
“Yes.”  
2.  
Lately, Sherlock’s very under the cover and controlled OCD had been getting worse and worse. Sherlock had organized his socks by color and then alphabetically by color. All of his shirts also were organized that day and had to be pushed only to the left side of the closet. When the laundry was done, he would sit there for an hour and a half perfectly folding the napkins so he could put them away.  
John would walk into the living room to see Sherlock tapping the tip of his nail against the laminate on the coffee table. This would have been normal, but he was watching his finger very intently and was mouthing words. John sat down next to him on the couch. “How many times do you have to do that, Sherlock?”  
“90 times, I have to do this 90 times.”  
Sherlock still went to all the crime scenes as before, which made John happy to see that it was not affecting Sherlock’s life too much. But when he came home, he viciously scrubbed at the dishes while wearing rubber gloves.  
It was yet to be determined why Sherlock’s OCD was making such a prevalent appearance, but they were just trying to live through it. Even when Sherlock was almost hyperventilating when John tried to leave the house after John had accidentally put on one black and one dark blue sock. Luckily John looked at his feet and immediately started to look for a new pair of socks.  
However, when Moriarity found out, he was not so willing to move through it. When his spies informed him of Sherlock’s viciously reappearing OCD, he realized that it was going to be so much easier and more amusing to bring Sherlock down- from the inside. While John and Sherlock were both out that day, Moriarity had his associate Sebastian Moran break into 221 B. Moriarity had given him a list of what to do when he got there. Moran went to Sherlock’s bed room and very messily unfolded Sherlock’s socks and scrambled them up amongst each other. He went to the closet and took the hangers out and rearranged the shirts and shoved them all to the right side of the closet.  
He then went to the living room and grinned as he tilted the pictures so they were all lying at angles on the walls. He dragged the pieces of furniture around the living room so they were in new positions, but it was still very natural. Something that would take any normal person a few days to notice completely.  
But Sherlock Holmes was no normal person.  
Moran laughed to himself as he left the flat. It was rare that one of Moriarity’s jobs was entertaining, but this one was actually kind of fun.  
Later, when Sherlock came home he put his scarf and coat up on the hook by the door then turned around to see the furniture rearranged and the picture frames at odd angles. He gasped and stumbled backwards. “No, no, no,” he whispered under his breath. “Oh God this can’t be happening.” Sherlock ran to his room and slammed his door, deciding that he would just hide in his room for the time being. But then he turned around to see his closet door open with the disorganized shirts hanging out, and the sock drawer was open with his scrambled socks falling out. He shut his eyes and shook his head and then shuffled for his door handle with open eyes.  
He ran down the hallway into the kitchen desperately and flopped down in one of the chairs at the dining room tables. He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly. He rocked back and forth in his chair and tried to shut out everything that was going on around him.  
About ten minutes later, John came home to find Sherlock like this in the kitchen.  
“Sherlock! Sherlock! What’s the matter?” John asked worriedly.  
“Look,” Sherlock whispered, “Look in the living room. It’s a mess.” He buried his face in his knees.  
John stepped into the living room; at first he didn’t see anything but living with Sherlock he had learned to look further. To observe. He saw that the picture frames were slightly tilted and the furniture was rearranged.  
“Did Moriarity do this?” John asked.  
“I don’t know,” his voice croaked, “And my sock index is mixed up, and my shirts are on the right side.” Sherlock went on until he was almost crying.  
“No,” John got down so he was eye level with Sherlock in his chair. “Sherlock, we are going to get through this together, okay? You tell me what to fix and how to fix it and I will do it. We’re going to make you okay.” John said.  
“Okay John.” Sherlock wiped his eyes on the palms of his hands and started to tell John what to resituate. Once it was all done, John threw Sherlock a new bottle of OCD meds, and Sherlock thanked him with greatful eyes.


End file.
